


Tuesdays

by thunderingskies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: Oikawa swallows, gaze heavy on the figure leaning against his door, hunched over and shaking. His hood is drawn up, but Oikawa knows who it’s going to be.
It’s the same every time.
“Iwa-chan,” he breathes, stepping a little closer. The figure jolts up, and his hood falls down, revealing the spikey hair that Oikawa has grown so fond of. Iwaizumi turns his gaze over to the sound of Oikawa’s voice, and he looks rough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For calmflipper on tumblr! Thanks for the ask! Let me know if I should continue this.

On Tuesdays, Oikawa works late. 

On Tuesdays, he has the same visitor at his door, waiting there for him.

Oikawa swallows, gaze heavy on the figure leaning against his door, hunched over and shaking. His hood is drawn up, but Oikawa knows who it’s going to be.

It’s the same every time.

“Iwa-chan,” he breathes, stepping a little closer. The figure jolts up, and his hood falls down, revealing the spikey hair that Oikawa has grown so fond of. Iwaizumi turns his gaze over to the sound of Oikawa’s voice, and he looks  _ rough _ . Bags under his eyes heavy, eyebrow creased, a fresh cut on his lip - he looks worse than the last time Oikawa saw him, which was a week ago today.

Iwaizumi blinks, vision hazy; he’s disoriented, like he often is when he comes here, but Oikawa is used to dealing with it at this point. He shifts past him, and to his door, taking out his keys to unlock it.

Iwaizumi blinks a few times, swallowing hard. “Oikawa?” His voice is rough, matching up with his ragged appearance. “Tooru?”

The sound of his name makes Oikawa’s stomach twist uncomfortably; he nods, pushing his door open and putting a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, leading him in. “It’s me, Iwa-chan, come on, come in.” He doesn’t bother with shoes, dropping his bag down next to the door and walking Iwaizumi straight into his living room, right to the couch.

Oikawa helps him sit down, biting his lip when Iwaizumi flinches at a brush against his ribs; he’s hurt, again. Iwaizumi sinks in, a heavy sigh falling from his lips, his eyelids fluttering closed. 

His clothes are a mess, so Oikawa works at getting them off him. He unzips his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor. Iwaizumi’s mostly limp, but helps in lifting up his arms and pulling off his t-shirt. Oikawa opts to leave him in his sweatpants, pulling him up and onto the couch properly.

“Iwa-chan, have you eaten anything today?” He speaks softly, trying to keep his voice even and level. He doesn’t want Iwaizumi to get spooked and leave - only god knows where he goes when he’s not here. Iwaizumi makes a noncommittal sound, but shakes his head no. With a nod, Oikawa stands up, pulling a throw blanket from his armchair and draping it over Iwaizumi. “I’m going to heat up some soup or something, okay? I’ll be right back.” Iwaizumi looks up at him and nods, gaze far away.

Oikawa’s lost count of how many times Iwaizumi has shown up at his door looking like this. Injured, distressed, sometimes sick, most of the time tired, but always strung out. 

How did they get here?

How did they go from being healthy, happy,  _ alive _ \- to this? Did it really just take an injury, Iwaizumi throwing out his arm, to get him hooked on pain pills?

How has he not been able to help his best friend?

Oikawa puts on some soup, and gets a glass of cold water. He brings it back to the living room, only to find Iwaizumi sitting up, knees up against his chest.

“Iwa-chan, have some water.” Oikawa holds out the glass, which Iwaizumi accepts, shakily. Oikawa keeps his grip on it while Iwaizumi takes a sip, afraid it will fall, before putting it down on the coffee table. “I’m making some food, okay?” He bites his lip, before sitting down next to Iwaizumi. “Do you… Are you…” How do you even  _ talk _ about this? Oikawa feels so lost, so helpless.

“What happened?” He chooses, lifting a hand to rub his thumb along Iwaizumi’s split lip. He doesn’t even move at the touch.

“‘S nothing,” Iwaizumi shrugs, but the action looks pained.

Oikawa nods, looking down at the floor. He bites his lip.

“The last time… ‘S gonna be the last time…” Iwaizumi mumbles, his worls slurred, before letting out a breath. “It just…. It just hurts… _ So much, _ Tooru…”

_ Yes, it does. _

Oikawa blinks away tears. He shouldn’t be getting emotional - it’s not going to help - but he can’t help himself. Slowly, he reaches out, placing a hand on top of Iwaizumi’s. He waits, until Iwaizumi lifts his palm up.

They move slowly. It’s their way of making sure the other is here, is listening, is going to be okay. Iwaizumi shakily lifts his arm, straightening his fingers out, and Oikawa presses their palms together. Their fingertips are shaky, but it’s enough; it helps, it grounds him, and things become clearer.

Oikawa looks up, and meets Iwaizumi’s gaze. He looks so  _ broken.  _ Oikawa chokes back a sob. He moves to withdraw his hand, to get up, but Iwaizumi stops him, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing.

“ _ Please, _ ” Iwaizumi breathes, “I need you, Tooru.” He’s trembling, yet all Oikawa can do is draw in a deep breath, expression clouded.

“There are only so many times I can watch you break before I start to crack.” He bites his lip, looking up to meet Iwaizumi’s gaze. Iwaizumi chokes back a sob, shifting closer, until Oikawa draws him in close.

He feels his himself start to break, that night, his heart threatening to shatter.


End file.
